Robert Kimberly. Spearman Frank Hamilton
now," echoed Imogene, "you see howbeautifully it turns out. The Nelsons declined,Mr. MacBirney disappoints me, Charles goesfishing, and can't get home to-night in time to dine.But there are still seven of us-what could bebetter? Mrs. De Castro will claim the doctor.Arthur won't desert me, and, Robert, you may givean arm to Fritzie and one to Mrs. MacBirney."
There was now no escape from a smile, andAlice resolved to be loyal to her hostess. Theparty moved into the drawing-room.
Fritzie Venable tried to engage Kimberly inanswering her questions about a saddle-horse thatone of his grooms had recommended. Kimberlyprofessed to know nothing about it. When itbecame apparent that he really did know nothingof the horse, Fritzie insisted on explaining.
Her spirited talk, whether concerning her owntroubles or those of other people, was notuninteresting. Soon she talked more especially toAlice. Kimberly listened not inattentively butsomewhat perfunctorily, and the manner, noticeableat their second meeting, again impressed Alice.
Whether it was a constraint or an unpleasingreserve was not clear; and it might have been theabstraction of a busied man, one of that typefamiliar in American life who are inherentlyinteresting, but whose business affairs never whollyrelease their thought.
Whatever the cause, Fritzie was sufficientlyinterested in her own stories to ignore it and in adegree to overcome the effect of it. She was sureof her ground because she knew her distinguishedconnection had a considerate spot in his heart forher. She finally attacked him directly, and atfirst he did not go to the trouble of a defence.When she at length accused him, rather sharply,of letting business swallow him up, Kimberly, with Alice listening, showed a trace of impatience.
"The old sugar business!" Fritzie exclaimedreproachfully, "it is taking the spiritualitycompletely out of the Kimberly family."
Robert looked at her in genuine surprise andburst into a laugh. "What's that?" he demanded, bending incredulously forward.
Fritzie tossed her head. "I don't care!"
"Spirituality?" echoed Kimberly, with a quietmalice. His laugh annoyed Fritzie, but she stuckto her guns: "Spirits, then; or gayety, or life!"she cried. "I don't care what you call it.Anything besides everlastingly piling up money. Oh, these almighty dollars!"
"You tire of them so quickly, is it, Fritzie? Oris it that they don't feel on familiar terms enoughto stay long with you?" he asked, while Alicewas smiling at the encounter.
Fritzie summoned her dignity and pointed everyword with a nod. "I simply don't want to seeall of my friends-ossify! Should you?" shedemanded, turning to Alice for approval.
"Certainly not," responded Alice.
"Bone black is very useful in our business,"observed Kimberly.
Fritzie's eyes snapped. "Then buy it! Don'tattempt to supply the demand out of your ownbones!"
It would have been churlish to refuse her herlaugh. Kimberly and Alice for the first timelaughed together and found it pleasant.
Fritzie, following up her advantage, askedDoctor Hamilton whether he had heard DoraMorgan's latest joke. "She had a dispute,"continued Fritzie, "with George Doane last nightabout Unitarians and Universalists-"
"Heavens, have those two got to talkingreligion?" demanded Kimberly, wearily.
"George happened to say to Cready Hamiltonthat Unitarians and Universalists believed justabout the same doctrine. When Dora insisted itwas not so, George told her she couldn't name adifference. 'Why, nonsense, George,' said Dora,'Unitarians deny the divinity of Christ, butUniversalists don't believe in a damned thing.' Andthe funny part of it was, George got furious ather," concluded Fritzie with merriment.
"I suppose you, too, fish," ventured Alice toKimberly as the party started for the dining-room.
"My fishing is something of a bluff," heconfessed. "That is, I fish, but I don't get anything.My brother really does get the fish," he said ashe seated her. "He campaigns for them-onehas to nowadays, even for fish. I can't scrape upinterest enough in it for that. I whip one poolafter another and drag myself wearily overportages and chase about in boats, and my guidesfable wisely but I get next to nothing."
Alice laughed. Even though he assumedincompetence it seemed assumed. And in sayingthat he got no fish one felt that he did get them.
Arthur was talking of Uncle John's nurse-whomthe circle had nicknamed "Lazarus." Hereferred to the sacrifices made sometimes by men.
"It won't do to say," De Castro maintained,"that these men are mere clods, that they haveno nerves, no sensitiveness. The first one youmeet may be such a one; the next, educated orof gentle blood."
"'Lazarus,'" he continued, "is by no means acommon man. He is a gentleman, the product ofcenturies of culture-this is evident from fiveminutes' talk with him. Yet he has abandonedeverything-family, surroundings, luxuries-fora work that none of us would dream of undertaking."
"And what about women, my dear?"demanded Dolly. "I don't say, take a class ofwomen-take any woman. A woman's life isnothing but sacrifice. The trouble is that womenbear their burdens uncomplainingly. That iswhere all women make a mistake. My life hasbeen a whole series of sacrifices, and I proposepeople shall know it."
"No matter, Dolly," suggested Imogene, "yourwrongs shall be righted in the next world."
"I should just like the chance to tell my storyup there," continued Dolly, fervently.
Kimberly turned to Alice: "All that Dollyfears," said he, in an aside, "is that heaven willprove a disappointment. But to change thesubject from heaven abruptly-you are from theWest, Mrs. MacBirney."
"Do you find the change so abrupt? and mustI confess again to the West?"
"Not if you feel it incriminates you."
"But I don't," protested Alice with spirit.
"Has your home always been there?"
"Yes, in St. Louis; and it is a very dear oldplace. Some of my early married life was spentmuch farther West."
"How much farther?"
"So much that I can hardly make anybodycomprehend it-Colorado."
"How so?"
"They ask me such wild questions about buffalosand Indians. I have found one woman sincecoming here who has been as far West as Chicago, once."
"In what part of Colorado were you?"
"South of Denver."
"You had beautiful surroundings."
"Oh, do you know that country?"
"Not nearly as well as I should like to. It isbeautiful."
Alice laughed repentantly as she answered: "More beautiful to me now, I'm afraid, than itwas then."
"Any town is quiet for a city girl, of course.Was it a small town?"
"Quite small. And odd in many ways."
"I see; where the people have 'best clothes'-"
"Don't make fun."
"And wear them on Sunday. And there isusually one three-story building in the town-Iwas marooned over Sunday once in a littleWestern town, with an uncle. I saw a sign on a bigbuilding: 'Odd Fellows' Hall.' Who are theOdd Fellows, uncle?' I asked. He was a crustyold fellow: 'Optimists, my son, optimists,' hegrowled, 'They build three-story buildings intwo-story towns.' What was your town, by the way?"
"Piedmont."
"Piedmont?" Kimberly paused a moment."I ought to know something of that town."
Alice looked surprised. "You?"
"The uncle I spoke of built a railroad throughthere to the Gulf. Isn't there a town belowPiedmont named Kimberly?"
"To be sure there is. How stupid! I neverthought it was named after your uncle."
"No, that uncle was a Morgan,", interposedImogene, listening, "the town was named afteryour next neighbor."
"How interesting! And how could you makesuch fun of me-having me tell you of a countryyou knew all about! And a whole town namedafter